


Goes Down Smooth

by craigboone



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Drinking, F/F, Falling In Love, First Time Together, Oral Sex, gay shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:22:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craigboone/pseuds/craigboone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She remembered watching Dia bathe in Lake Mead, the muscles in her back covered in water droplets and shining in the evening sun. The whiskey was to blame, she reminded herself. This wasn’t the first time her face had been hot and her body felt electric, just the first time she had felt so stupidly shy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goes Down Smooth

The Lucky 38 presidential suite was quiet when she was away. When the Courier left the robot behind, he flew around from room to room beeping at Cass or Boone, whoever was around, but it was worse when the Courier left behind the dog. Rex would lie down at the foot of her bed and whine. When Cass got sick of ignoring his whimpers she’d try to lure him out of the Courier’s bedroom.

The door to her bedroom was cracked open. It was dark, and smelled like Abraxo and something faintly sweet. Cass nudged the door and it squeaked open. Crouching, she offered out some scraps of gecko steak for the dog. Rex sniffed the palms of her hands before lapping up the chunks of meat. She wiped the dog spit off onto her jeans, and took a step into the bedroom.

It was a terrible intrusion of privacy, but Cass felt drawn to the room. The deep, velvet navy sheets on the bed were rumpled slightly and rested in thick folds. One of the weapon trunks was propped open and she could see where the Courier had stacked boxes of ammo. On the nightstand there was a 10 mm, empty beer bottles, a handful of caps, and a thin red ribbon that Cass had seen the Courier use to tie up her unruly brunette curls a few dozen times.

The terminal on the desk was in pieces. The Courier had spent hours of down time disassembling it and trying to get the thing to work again. “What’s the point?” Cass had asked, leaning in the open doorway.

There was a lamp stripped of its shade plugged in beside her so the Courier could better see what she was doing, and Cass could see the light reflecting in the Courier’s hazel eyes. “Gotta be something worth preserving of this old world stuff, don’t you think?”

On the sofa was a small journal made from thick, lumpy paper and bound in worn leather. Running her fingers over the cover, Cass glanced over her shoulder at the half-open door and at Rex, who was licking his front paws beside her feet. She peeled back the cover and saw where the Courier had written her name in small, blocky letters: Dia. Flipping through the pages she discovered pressed broc flowers, receipts, crinkled scraps from pre-war books, and handwritten notes. She lingered on a page where she found her name written in a long paragraph. Cass liked the uniformity of the way that Dia swirled her ‘s’s and the smooth, arch of her ‘a’s. While trying to scan the page for context, the elevator dinged and she dropped the journal back onto the couch.

Rex barked and padded out into the hall, and Cass closed the door just-so as she followed the dog out of the room. As the doors slid open, Dia’s eyes rested on Cass. Dia’s full lips blossomed into a soft grin and Cass’s stomach tightened. Something must have been up with that gecko steak she’d had for lunch.

Dia brushed past Cass to drop her pack inside her room. She had to step around Rex, who was jumping up to paw at her legs. Up on his back legs, Rex could put his large paws on Dia’s chest. She was short, with round hips and thick thighs. She was strong enough to heave her huge pack across the Mojave without complaint. Cass watched her bare shoulders relax, free from the weight as she shifted her bag onto the floor. Dia bent down to scratch Rex’s ears and he covered her face with sticky dog spit. Cass left for the rec room where she’d left a _Guns and Bullets_ , and if Craig Boone knew what was good for him, he would have kept his dirty mitts off of it.

In the other room, the radio was on and there was a clamor of pots clanking against each other.  The smell of sizzling brahmin steaks drew Cass away from her armchair. Dia was mashing potatoes in a large pot over the stove. Cass brushed past her to grab a bottle from the top of the fridge.

“Wanna drink?” she asked, pouring whiskey into twin glasses. Dia turned up her glass and shivered when she shallowed. Cass thought about the taste of the whiskey lingering on her tongue and watched Dia’s lips rest on the edge of her glass as she drained the final drops.  

“Another?” Dia placed her cup down beside Cass.

By the time dinner was ready, Cass’s face was flushed and Dia was giggling her way through a story about fighting geckos with Arcade. Cass could hold her drink better than anyone in the Mojave, but her stomach seized up whenever Dia’s eyes rested on her. She blamed the alcohol for the heat that spread across her cheeks when Dia smiled at her.

During dinner, Dia pressed her bare feet into Cass’s legs and smiled as she pulled up the hem of her jeans with her toes. They took turns pouring drinks for each other, and to Cass it seemed like they were the only two in the room--no ever-beeping eyebot, no nightkin insisting they eat their vegetables, just Dia and her. Everything was warm, like an orange sunset against their backs.

They stayed behind with the empty dishes, alone at the table. Dia’s fingers were intertwined with Cass’s. She watched Dia’s lips while she spoke. The world was a fuzzy blur around them and the voice on the radio was crooning through the static. The kiss was gentle, and Cass wasn’t sure who started it, who closed the gap between them. She just knew that Dia’s lips were soft, her mouth was warm and wet, and that if they stopped now Cass would go absolutely-fucking-crazy. When Dia pulled back she looked at Cass through her thick lashes, her head tilted to the side. Cass pulled her back in, and Dia let out a low moan that sent a shiver down Cass’s spine.

“What do you want?” Dia asked. Her voice was low, like distant thunder. Cass didn’t know what she wanted. It was somewhere between _something_ and _now_ and _you_ and _please_.

Their hands clasped. Dia was leading her down the hall, and Cass felt strangely nervous. As if she hadn’t done this before with men who stunk of beer and sweat, and it’s all the same if you’re drunk and you’re in the dark, right?

Cass thought about the way Dia had carefully written her name in her journal, and wondered what she had said about her. She remembered watching Dia bathe in Lake Mead, the muscles in her back covered in water droplets and shining in the evening sun. The whiskey was to blame, she reminded herself. This wasn’t the first time her face had been hot and her body felt electric, just the first time she had felt so stupidly shy about it.

Dia moved through her dark bedroom with ease and switched on the lamp on the bedside table. Cass sat at the end of the bed and ran her hands over the sheets while Dia fell down onto the sheets and stretched out. Her curls were haloed out around her face against the pillow. When Cass moved to lay beside Dia, her hands started to shake. Dia smiled and ran her hand over Cass’s arm.

“What about you, what do you want?” Cass asked. She shuffled closer to Dia. Their bare feet were touching slightly. When Dia’s hand moved against Cass’s skin she felt warm, tingly and she was so incredibly aware of how soft Dia’s touch was.

“I want you,” Dia said. Her eyes rested briefly on Cass’s lips, and when she blinked her dark eyelashes brushed her cheeks. Dia pulled her hand back, resting it on the sheets in the space between them. Cass laughed, she wasn’t sure why, and she hated the way her laugh sounded like a bark in the quiet room.

“There’s not a problem with that.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Been drunk before,” Cass said. It wasn’t like she didn’t run on the opposite end of an empty whiskey bottle; wasn’t like she didn’t just spend months trapped in a shitty bar in an even shittier outpost spending her last caps on drinks; wasn’t like she had anything else that she wanted like she wanted _this_ . Whatever _this_ was or whatever it could be.

“Don’t want to do something you’ll regret in the morning.” Dia bit down on her lower lip. Cass reached out to touch the collar of her shirt and brushed her fingers against Dia’s neck. Her eyebrows scrunched together above her nose.

“If this is a mistake, I’d bet it was one worth making.” Cass pushed the fabric away so she could kiss Dia’s neck. Dia let out another quiet moan.

“I don’t want this to be a mistake,” she said. Her arms wrapped around Cass and pulled her closer. She slipped a hand under her shirt to touch her lower back. Dia’s hands were shaking slightly, but Cass’s hands felt steadier than they had all night. She unbuttoned her checkered flannel and slid it off of her shoulders. Cass studied the way that Dia’s full lips were slightly parted. Dia reached out to touch Cass’s bare skin, but hesitated.

“Is there a problem?” asked Cass. Dia shook her head and her curls bounced against her shoulders.

“Nothing, it’s just—” She looked away for a moment and let out a quick laugh. “I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong, it’s just that—”

“What?”

“You’re even more beautiful than I’d imagined.” Dia dropped down into her pillow and covered her face. Suddenly self-conscious, Cass’s face felt hot. She laughed again, and wished that she hadn’t been so hasty in trying to take her clothes off. Every time Cass had ended up in bed with some nameless stranger after too many drinks, it had been so different than this. Cass had never been shy like this before, never wanted more than just a quick fuck and a cigarette.

“I’m sorry, I’ve ruined everything.” Dia’s words were muffled into the pillowcase. Cass pulled her in close by the front of the shirt.

“Come on,” she said, “it’s hardly the worst thing someone’s ever said to me before sex.” Cass kissed Dia’s neck, and listened as her breath caught.

“Oh, so _that’s_ what we’re doing?”

“Fuck, I’ve never heard you talk this much,” Cass said. She started toying with the button on Dia’s shirt and felt stupid for being so impatient.

“There are other things I can do with my mouth, if you like.” When Dia grinned, Cass shivered. She was being so incredibly _stupid_ about this, if only she could just fucking act normal about it. Dia kissed her, slowly and with such care that Cass felt guilty for wanting to fuck. Cass ran her hands over Dia’s side and rested her hand against her.. She decided, as Dia nipped gently on her lower lip, that she could lie like this until they fell asleep nestled together in the middle of the Courier’s bed. She could have, but when she thought about the type of thing that Dia might do with her mouth Cass _ached_ for it.

Dia slipped out of her shirt and unhooked her bra. Cass wanted to know how long she could look before she was staring. Dia had large breasts with dark areolas and stretch marks on her stomach. She raised an eyebrow at Cass, a question on her lips. Cass ran her hands over Dia’s bare shoulders and down her arms, then to her chest. She ran her thumbs gently over the soft skin around Dia’s nipples. Cass watched Dia’s chest rise and fall as she started breathing heavier. Dia let out a low hum as Cass moved to stroke her nipples.

“Do you want this off?” Dia ran her fingers under the strap of Cass’s bra. Cass shook her head and twisted her lips together.

“Don’t really like having my tits touched.”

“Sure thing, just tell me where you do like to be touched, okay?” Dia said. Cass shifted, unbuttoning her jeans and unceremoniously shimming out of them. Dia smiled, her eyes moving slowly across Cass’s naked body.

“Wow, you have freckles everywhere!” Dia ran her hands over Cass’s outer thighs.

“Yeah?”

“They’re really cute.” Dia placed a small kiss on Cass’s freckled stomach, and her curls fell over Cass’s skin and tickled her. Dia ran her hands over Cass’s thighs again. Her fingertips caused tiny shivers in the base of Cass’s spine.

Cass was surprised at how excited she was, embarrassed maybe. When Dia finally stopped teasing her through her underwear and slipped her fingers into Cass’s panties, even Cass could tell how aroused she was. Dia smiled at her and shuffled a little to get more comfortable.

“You’re really gorgeous,” Dia said as she traced her fingers along Cass’s pussy. Dia moved slowly, watching Cass the whole time with heavily-lidded eyes. Cass stifled a moan, and instead a small whimper escaped her parted lips. Cass felt like she was going crazy. Her legs were shaking slightly. She pushed her hips up to meet Dia’s hands Cass was never one for patience, but Dia wasn’t in a rush. Cass wasn’t a whiny lover--she had been known to be “bossy” and “demanding” and very occasionally “insulting” of a partner’s competence--but she had never been whiny. Now, she felt inclined to _beg_.

“Cass?” Dia tugged two fingers on the waistband of Cass’s panties. “Do you think that these are in my way?”

Cass nodded, brushing her hair away from her face. Dia’s smiled as she tugged Cass’s panties off, her warm hands sliding down Cass’s skin. She ran her hands over Cass’s hips and then her thighs before making herself comfortable between Cass’s legs. Dia placed careful kisses along the soft skin on the inside of her thighs and Cass tensed. Looking down, Cass could see Dia between her legs. Just before Cass thought she was about to begin, Dia paused.

“Are you relaxed? Comfortable?” she asked, running her hands over Cass’s hips. Cass nodded, and Dia smiled before her mouth disappeared from view. Cass rested her head back against the pillow, one hand buried in the sheets and the other in Dia’s hair.

Dia was teasing her with her mouth and Cass was biting down on her lower lip to try to keep from making too much noise. Of course, there had been a handful of men who had gone down on her before, but it had never been like this. Dia was gentle and precise. She didn’t go at it like a dog drinking out of a water bowl, and she wasn’t impatient like she was waiting for something else. Cass gasped out Dia’s name, in breathless sets of three. _Dia, Dia, Dia._ Her curls were soft in her fist, and Dia didn’t complain when her grip tightened.

She didn’t stop after Cass came, only when Cass pushed Dia’s hair back from her face and told her she should stop. Dia moved to lie next to Cass and Cass moved to rest her head against Dia’s shoulder. Cass was breathless, and she could smell herself on Dia’s skin.  Dia ran her hands over Cass’s bare shoulders.

“I love these freckles on your shoulders,” she said. Dia’s smile made Cass’s legs feel weak.

“You have cute freckles, too.” Cass brushed Dia’s cheeks with her fingers and Dia shook her head.

“Yours are way cuter, makes your skin looks angel-kissed.”

“Angel-kissed, seriously?” Cass laughed and rubbed her feet against Dia’s.

“Someone told me that once, about my freckles, I don’t remember who. They said, those freckles are from where the angels kissed you.” She pushed the hair away from her forehead briefly to expose the scar.

“Hmm, or maybe you just use your sad eyes and your scar to make up sappy bullshit to say after sex,” Cass said.

“That sentimental stuff doesn’t really work on you, does it?” Dia sighed, kicking back the blankets so she could pull them up around their shoulders. Cass loved how warm and soft Dia’s body felt pressed up against hers. Dia was running her hands through Cass’s hair, gently untangling it when her fingers got caught and occasionally softly rubbing the back of Cass’s neck. Cass felt warm, her head just slightly dizzy, and she wanted to say something, but fell asleep before she could remember what it was.

 

Dia was gone when Cass woke. Dia’s boots, her pack, and the 10mm from the bedside table were all missing. Cass felt like she had been punched in the gut. She searched the side table for a note amongst the clutter. There wasn’t one. _Fuck._

Cass picked up her discarded flannel from the floor and pulled it over her shoulders. She was too fucking old to cry over a one-night-stand, but something felt different. She needed to know where Dia had gone, needed to talk to her, needed to tell her—what exactly, Cass wasn’t sure, but she wanted to get to her as soon as possible. She hurried to get back into yesterday’s clothing, and tried to leave the room without being too obvious. She caught Arcade heading to the elevator and stopped him to ask where Dia left to.

“She and Craig left early this morning, sometime before six.”

“Any idea where they were headed?”

“Of course, they’re both so chatty and forthcoming with information, they told me exactly where they were going.”

“Do you do anything without being a smart ass?” Cass asked.

 

Cass paced through the suite as Rex followed at her heel and whined. She felt sorry for the dog and even sorrier for herself. After rifling through the kitchen for something to eat, she picked at the food and fed the rest to Rex. Dia could be gone for days,or she could be walking across the Mojave to Cottonwood Cove to get killed by a fuckbillion Legion. It was too early in the day to start drinking, not that had ever stopped Cass before.

She sulked back to Dia’s room, one hand around a glass and another scratching the backs of Rex’s ears. Dia’s clothes from last night were still discarded next to the bed. Cass picked them up, felt the fabric in her hands. There was a careful mend, with thick even stitches. Cass could picture Dia’s fingers working a needle into the shirt, working slowly and patiently until the task was finished. Her face felt warm, her thoughts wandering off to the things that Dia could do with her steady hands. She let the shirt fall back to the floor.

Dia could be gone for days, and Cass had no way of telling. It was useless to try to chase after her when she had no clue where she could be headed. She sunk down into the couch. Dia’s journal was lying next to her, where Cass had dropped it after flipping through it. Cass tried to convince herself that she was going to respect Dia’s privacy and leave her thoughts and secrets protected. She reminded herself about how slow to warm up to folks Dia was, told herself that an invasion of privacy on this level would be a serious breach of trust, but the leather was gently worn under her fingers.

Cass searched for every instance of her own name, scanning over Dia’s notes about meeting her at the Outpost. Dia wrote almost every day, it seemed, but she didn’t date all of her pages. Sometimes she jotted down a hazy memory or a dream, and other times a page was filled with a sketch drawn with heavy, thick lines. There were little snippets about Cass, mentions of her hair in the sunlight or things that Cass had said that made Dia laugh. A phrase caught Cass’s eye, “I’m too old to be falling for a straight girl—I’m a complete and hopeless idiot.” Cass rested the journal in her lap, flooded with guilt and relief in equal measures. She ran her fingers over Dia’s words and let out a short bark of a laugh. _Straight girl, huh?_


End file.
